Tag Archives: #RDP

Opposites Attract.

Opposites Attract

They had a transitory friendship.  In class, it was effusive,
but once out of the classroom it tended toward abusive.
Teachers provided discipline that they lacked otherwise.
They needed supervision to deal with the surprise
they felt when their thoughts differed—to control their yin and yang.
Somehow, self-moderation simply was not their “thang.”
Differences enrich us. They expand our point of view.
They teach us how to listen while buffering the “you.”
Show our differences and likenesses with the ultimate end
of taking an acquaintance and making them a friend.

 

Prompts for today are friend, transitory, effusive and classroom.

Note Attached to a Skirt at Mia’s Recycled Clothing Shop

Note Attached to a Skirt at Mia’s Recycled Clothing Shop

I’ve made a decision to downsize my clothes.
I’ve thrown out my slips and old panty hose
that have lain there dormant for thirty-five years,
my decision to jettison long in arrears.
Then I threw out old fashions that I knew were dated.
With memories they were all so permeated—
of travel and weddings and high school dances,
that I couldn’t avail myself of the past chances
to donate to charities or to my friends
or delegate them to more permanent ends
such as landfills and garbage trucks. It seemed too crass
to dispose of such wonderful memories en masse.

Yet now I’ve decided to lighten my load
and get rid of excess that fills my abode.
I only hope that one day I’ll detect
the trickle-down theory gone into effect:
some stranger, perhaps, that I pass by chance
who knows not why she’s met with an extra-warm glance
as she strolls down the street looking happy and gay
in the gypsy skirt chosen for my wedding day
thirty-five years ago, now finally freed
from my closet to go on and finally lead
a life of its own and to soak up some new
happiness. Will it perhaps be from you?

Prompts for today are downsize, permeate, trickle, avail and decision.

Contronyms and Clarity

Contronyms and Clarity

The word “cleave” is an enigma—first itself and then its opposite,
for it can mean “to cling to” but it also means “divide or split”.
What’s with the English language, with words meant to confuse?
Why bother to define a word that seems meant to abuse
our reason and ability to know what a word means?
Has our whole lexicology reverted to our teens
where “bad” is “good” and “sick” is “amazing, awesome, cool?”
What’s with these double meanings that make me feel a fool?

Do you believe the world of words has somehow let you down?
You imagine you’re a scholar, but turn out to be a clown?
That “hold up” means “support” but also “impede” is mendacious.
What next? Will “roomy” come to mean both “cramped” as well as “spacious?”
A rock is something solid—the opposite of jerking.
So why does “rocking out” involve this gyrating and twerking?

Someone “left” remains  but one departed also “left.”
What happens in a language where there is not a cleft
between what a word means and its opposite as well?
Have we run out of ways to enumerate and spell?
Are there not sufficient different words to go around?
Must we ascribe to opposites the same spelling and sound?

Though it’s anything but spartan, must our language play the fool
and accept a meaning for a word that clearly breaks the rule
that a word must stand for something clearly understood?
That a word can mean its opposite ultimately would
turn “black” to “white” and “white” to “black”, turn “happiness” to “sadness,”
and once given this opening, our world would turn to madness.

If “yes” meant “no,” how many brides would be sadly wed
when they meant to marry another man instead?
If “up” meant “up” but also “down,” how would folks reach their floor?
And imagine the concussions if “solid wall” meant “door.”
So, so much for contronyms. Let us cease to spout them.
It’s clear enough to me the world is better off without them!

Prompts for the day are opening, spartan, mendacious, cleave and let you down.

Dressed to Kill the Blues

Dressed to Kill the Blues

If you’re feeling washed out like your blossoming’s through,
feeling less than capricious and aged and blue,
why not ransack your closet to find something gaudy,
colorful, crazy, a little bit bawdy?

Don’t nurse a depression that you can dress up.
Why be a sad dog when you could be a pup?
Wilder clothes make you happy. Put joie in your vivre.
Tight clothes and stilettos—a  trick up your sleeve.

That impulse to give up is something to hide.
Folks will respond to what they see outside.
So when life deals the doldrums, why give in and mess it up?

You will feel better if only you  dress it up.

Prompts for the day are washed out, nurse, capricious, ransack and  blossoming.

 

Lest you think this is how my friends and I always dress, I’ll reveal that this was a Poor Taste party I threw one New Years Eve. Friends were to come dressed in the worst possible taste and to bring a dish that was tacky but delicious. It was a fun party!!!! 

Making Hay

Making Hay

Take dinner at your leisure but with breakfast please make haste
lest one minute of your day you should think to waste.

Contemplate your choices. Delegate with care.
Of capricious working mates, I warn you to beware.

If you nurse idle habits, they’re sure to grow and thrive,
so don’t rest on your laurels while you are still alive.

Life is given as a gift so please don’t abuse it.
What a waste of riches if you choose not to use it.

Prompt words today are breakfastcapricious, hastedelegate and nurse. If you don’t understand the  allusion in the title, go HERE for enlightenment. Photo by Niklas Hamann on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Birthday Heist


Birthday Heist

The rumors are untrue. He is a scurrilous liar.
I did not steal the birthday cake. I did not start the fire.

My serenity is not a ruse. I’m innocent of error.
I swear I had no hand in your recent birthday terror.

The dog has done his utmost to brand me as the thief,
but the fool is barely lucid. Could you not see his relief

when you started to upbraid me as he chased me, headed south,
crumbs falling from his chest hair, frosting around his mouth?

Oh that I knew your language and I could tell you that,
but instead, for ever after, you’ll be blaming “that damn cat!!”

Evidence of an earlier crime: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvtfDaBi8XE

Prompt words today are liars, lucid, scurrilous, utmost and serenity.

What Man Hath Put Asunder

What Man Hath Put Asunder

The venerable queen of the whole Pacific Ocean
sat upon her Mermaid Throne toying with the notion
that the creatures of her realm should make an application
to create an underwater independent nation

to make their world more stable, in short to try to foil
those who drilled into its depths, searching for more oil
with which to poison both the world above and here below.
Already, she had seen them disturb the status quo

and flood her realm with poison thick and inky black,
destroying things that afterwards they had not put back.
Those creatures of the middle world between the sea and air
thought they were entitled to all that flourished there.

What nature had reined in they nonetheless felt they could alter,
wild horses freed from stables without benefit of halter
or reins or any saddle with which they could control
the forces that once gone unleashed began to take their toll:

gases leaking into air, oil inking up the water,
ice caps at Poles North and South beginning to totter.
There seemed to be no help for it, for humans seemed inept
at maintaining order in a world so loosely kept.

And so the seabirds washed ashore and the dolphins perished
because creatures of the middle world had not maintained and cherished
 that miraculous balance which nature had established
and were loath to change their course ’til all of it had vanished,

thus wiping out all humankind so Nature could start over
reinventing sea creatures, then blossoms, bees and clover
that those feckless humans had sought to kill in vain,
as this time she’d leave humans out of Nature’s chain.

Prompt words today are venerable, mermaid, application, entitle and stable. Gas, help and ink are the words for the TTC challenge #608. Photo of oil slick by Daniel Olah on Unsplash.

Ascension Dementia.

Ascension Dementia

When it comes to penthouse parties, I’m an equivocator
if it is a building that lacks an elevator.
Lately, my flair for climbing stairs seems to be out of whack.
When it comes to floor ascension, I do not have the knack.

My gumption seems to flag a bit as I reach the brink,
for as I run short of breath, I simply cannot think.
Thus, I’m an oxymoron, for when I climb the stair,

my mental acuity simply isn’t there.

At the bottom I am boisterous and have a lot of pep
that vanishes too quickly as I take step after step.
I try to remember what I climbed nine stories for,
but I can’t for the life of me remember anymore.

 

(According to poetic lexicography, an oxymoron is someone who loses mental acuity due to oxygen loss to the brain.)

Prompts today are flaggumption, oxymoron, whack and boisterous.

 

Sad Movies

Sad Movies

This movie’s so sad it should come with a tissue
and  a spare one as well with the first one they issue.
I blush to admit how my tears are just gushing. 
I’m surrounded by neighbors complaining and shushing.
It’s uncanny that I’d pay good money for this.
Nine dollars for me and nine dollars for sis.
I don’t need the mood swing. I don’t need this sadness—
exchanging for tears my earlier gladness.
If they’re going  to produce such sad entertainment,
a least they could provide adequate containment
for all of the tears and the blowing of noses.
Entertainment this year was no bed of roses!

Prompt words today are swing, uncanny, blush, issue and spare.

Last Ride

Last Ride

He was a motorcycle zealot,
so when his wife said he should sell it,
he protested, “It’s too soon!”
and headed out under the moon
in zipped-up jacket and leather boot
for a ride along that route

he’d ridden in his glory days,
but this time it was in a haze.
Those gorgeous hills and dales he’d ridden
somehow now seemed to be hidden,
rivaled by McDonald’s and
Target and Computerland.

Gone all the open road that he
had ridden when he’d felt so free.
His buddies ’round him in a pack—
Rowdy Bill and Badass Jack.
That place where they had raised such Hell
now turned into a Taco Bell.

He turned his bike back homeward then,
back to his place in Shady Glen.
Tacked a sign that said “For Sale” 
over his bike next to the rail
whereupon he hung his youth,
wild and free and so uncouth:

his leather jacket, his buckled boots
his companions down so many routes.
Hills and valleys away from home
where in wild youth, he’d gone to roam.
Finally knowing those days were done
now that he was ninety-one.

Prompts today are soon, zealot, gorgeous, rival.